


Paper crane

by JAKishu



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Big Brother Mycroft, Conditioning, Episode: s01e03 The Great Game, Friendship, Happy Ending, Kidnapping, M/M, Mind Games, Missing, Origami, Paper Crane, Pet, Pool, Protection, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Sherlock hurt, Sniper - Freeform, Torture, Wish, sally helps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-19 18:36:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11319246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JAKishu/pseuds/JAKishu
Summary: Sherlock let himself get taken, voluntarily by Moriarty. A price he paid to protect John from the sniper who pointed at them by the pool. Now Moriarty has a new toy to play with and a dispread John is searching for his friend.





	1. Chapter 1

„I will burn the heart out of you!“ Moriarty´s words burn with flaming hot intensity through his system. Sherlock can´t remember anymore how many days, weeks and months he is already with the mad man together, maybe already years. He hadn’t a choice he wouldn’t run. He will never run away even with the doors unlocked and no chain holding him back. He knows exactly where he is but he would stay and be the psychopaths …pet. He didn’t have a better name for it. He was Moriarty´s play thing, his to tame pet.

Sherlock followed him willingly as far you can call it this with your best friend at gunpoint with the promise to make it hurt if not to follow him. He did, he let go of his own gun and with a last look down where John was sitting on the pool´s floor he follows Moriarty into a world full of pain and suffering. It was not only physical pain because he had found a way to make do Sherlock what he want using John as pressure point. And it works.

The first time he refused one of the things Moriarty tells him to do, he get a life-stream of Baker Street out of the view of a sniper. The sniper was aiming at John. With the promise to make it last very long. And that is how it works since the beginning. Whenever Sherlock starts to rebel or not to jump at word he gets a new picture of John with a threat to hurt him.

When Moriarty asks him to walk on his hands and knees to play dog, he would do it.

When he asks him to get naked and lay in to snow for hours he would do it.

If the psychopath ask him to eat poison food and let him suffer for days he would do it and when ask if he want some more he would say ‘yes’ without hesitation.

If he was told to be quiet while Moriarty sliced his initials in his skin he would stop screaming and bit his lips until the blood flows down his face.

If his keeper asks him to stop breathing he would stop to do it until he lost conscious and after waking up to repeat until Moriarty would tell him to stop.

Sherlock didn’t fight the man who hurt him, he bear the pain the same as the days he was locked away taken all his senses becoming slowly insane.

The days without food and water were the easiest one but Moriarty let him do it for far longer as his body is used to it through the cases.

Once John was with Mycroft and Sherlock thought he would be save with his brother but all the fighting was useless, the monster just start to show him pictures of Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson. The first one at a crime scene and the other talking with a stranger on the street who looked very much like one of Moriarty´s man.

The moments when Sherlock got a quick look at John was somehow a relief and at the same time it made it worse. He misses John, terrible and couldn’t change the fact that he was used against him. He couldn’t see an end of this and if he would ever get out of here he is not sure he will be able to look at John again without seeing Moriarty and feeling fear and shame and pain and hatred.

Sherlock would still do everything Moriarty would ask of him long without even waiting for a picture of John but he would get it anyway to promote the feeling that John is the one that made him feel the pain or the fear. He also did it with Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade and after a while with his brother, his parents, Molly, a few of his homeless network and sometimes with random people just for fun like he said.

To prove his point he let some of these people have ‘little accidents’, got even his brother in one on the road and Mrs. Hudson got the wrong ‘medicine’ for her hips from her dealer but someone was with her as she collapse. The hours Sherlock had to wait to see if she had survived were pure torture, the pain Moriarty´s man were afflicted to him during this time just move in the background.

But it was always John who had the best effect on Sherlock how the big shadow would say. His mind was beginning to break and Moriarty had his fun to do it very slowly and painful. He was wiping out all hope, he overwrite his feeling for the people he cared for, not that Moriarty would use everyone he had ever known but how could Sherlock go back to work with Lestrade without thinking about the things that had been done to him. How could he eat something Mrs. Hudson had cooked for him when he had to eat rotten food next to her picture and how could he ever look at John again. John meant safety once now it was a punishment to see him. Being close would be worse.

Thinking about it, it was very unlikely that he will ever get out of here. He was a prisoner on his own free will. He stays because he wants to. He could walk out of the door anytime but his friends and family would pay the price. So Sherlock stays and let Moriarty break him.

He hates Moriarty for the pain he is giving him, he hates himself for letting it happen and sometime he hates John for being the most important person in the world for him.


	2. Chapter 2

John is getting crazy, more every day without finding Sherlock. How could he have let it happen? Yes, there were snipers and Sherlock didn’t really fight the abduction but there is always a way. It´s been months since the day on the pool. Months while Sherlock was god know where and he was staring at Mycroft who sits in ‘Sherlock´s’ chair.

“Why can´t you find him?” After the starring contest for over the last ten minutes John had enough. “Answer me?” Mycroft look to the ground and there was something like shame in his face.

“Because he is gone.” As if Mycroft Holmes would give up on the task to find his little brother.

“He is alive and you know it. If you can´t find him than do something to get Moriarty to show him to us.” He was angry, not really at Mycroft but general at everything and everyone, including himself for not being able to do something.

“How can I do something when my brother is with him? When I start to attack his network of criminal organizations he will use Sherlock against me. Don’t you think I have already thought about it? Making him angry to use Sherlock so we can gather new clues to find him but I couldn’t stand it if he would hurt him in front of me.” Mycroft was now more than a bit upset about this conversation and of course John understands his reasons but doing nothing wouldn’t change the situation. Right now Sherlock could be tortured just they don´t have to see it.

“Mycroft.” Speaking with a soft voice. “We need to do something or we will never see him again.” John looks encouraging to the man that is something like the Britain government and hopes that reason and desperate time would do it.

* * *

“You know pet I´m a bit disappointed in the behavior your brother was showing against me the last few week. I think we should give him something to think about. Maybe a very public demonstration of what I´m capable off?” Moriarty´s evil and insane smile run over his face.

“You don’t need to comment that, but I think you already learned how to behave.” Sherlock didn’t look in Moriarty´s eyes, he was too weak and tired and hopeless to do anything else then what was demand of him.

The next day was the day Moriarty choses to show Mycroft who the one with more power is. Setting a camera in place and getting ready. He checked Sherlock; he needed him conscious for this. He smiles as he sees the blank eyes of his pet. Everyone in London would watch his show. No one would be spared to watch this man crumble. But the hurt of the man who leads them would be invisible, only a few knew about the power Mycroft has and less know the real man.

* * *

John was with Mycroft together at Baker Street, discussing which of Moriarty´s allies they should hunt down next. Normally they would meet at Mycroft´s office or at the Diogenes club but not today. While talking or better rising they voices because they were different opinions (again) the TV behind them turned on and for the first time in over six month they saw Sherlock.

Sherlock was in a bad shape, hanging down from the ceiling his wrist in chains, his feet barley touching the ground. His hair was longer, his skin dirty gray and all over his body were injuries in different kind of healing processes. Some starts to scar other were still bleeding. They couldn’t see his face, his head hang down. Suddenly Moriarty steps into the picture.

“Hello dear people of London. This is a special program, no reason to worry, if you are not at home, there will be devices close enough for you to watch the show. It´s a special show for every single person in London but like always in life we have a few special guests. Let me introduce you all to Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective for New Scotland Yard. I think a few of you know him or at least what he did. He was the one that stopped the bombs I placed on people half a year ago. One reason he is here with me now. Taking away my fun AND destroying my game that was very naughty of you Sherlock.” Moriarty lifted Sherlock´s head by pulling it up on his hair. John nearly got sick on the carped the second he saw his friend´s eyes. The sharp light was gone, so was the bright color and they could see the broken state he was in. Sherlock didn’t look like he would survive a slap with a hand. Mycroft´s whole body trembles next to him. Unable to change what would happen they had to watch it.

“Like I told you we have a few special guest but they don’t know how close we are, I think I will show you all what I mean, it´s always the thing that let little Sherlock here be my pretty little pet.” On the side of the stream were three other pictures. The one of the top was easy to recognize, the living room Mycroft and John were standing right now. You could watch on the scream as they move to the camera and back. The second one was in the police department. They could watch Lestrade looking around to find the source and the last one was very close, right underneath them. Mrs. Hudson´s kitchen, with the old lady holding her hands in front of her mouth.

“Now everyone is in place. How about we start, pet?” The question was directed at Sherlock, who doesn’t move. “Your arms look a bit tired pet. Do me a favor and dislocated your shoulders, both of them, you did it before I think you know how it works. Oh and before I forget, I want to hear you scream this time.” That was not true but John and Mycroft have to watch in horror as Sherlock starts to let his shoulder relax and pull his body down. It didn’t take long for him to scream. They could see the pain and strain it took of him. But Sherlock didn’t stop not until he had done what Moriarty ask of him. With a last yell and the sickening noise of Sherlock´s shoulder popped out of their joint he blacked out.

‘Thank god’ was John´s first thought about it.  It was over and Sherlock didn’t need to feel the pain in his unconscious state.

“Oh I think pet here is sleeping now. Never gave him permission to do it. I think I have to punish him later for that but that will be a private event. So before I have to end this little show I have a small request at a person, I think he knows I mean him, to do me a favor. Like his little brother right now.” Moriarty´s playful mode changed to a serious, furious looking man. “Get the hell away from my work. Or your brother will be the one who is suffering.” The TV went black and the world stand sill for more than a few minutes.

John was the first one who said something. He could see Mycroft next to him, in shock and close to breaking too. “Don’t do that, you can´t give up now. Later when we have saved him. Understand.”

“You are right John. I´m sorry.” Mycroft straights up and takes his umbrella. “Let´s go. There is our chance to find Sherlock.” John follows him downstairs. Before they could leave the house Mrs. Hudson came out of her flat, crying.

“Please bring my boy back home.” She was close to a tears and John could have been in the same position if he hadn’t the opportunity to help looking for Sherlock now.

“We will. Promise Mrs. Hudson. It would be better when someone stays with you. Can you ask you sister or Mrs. Turner to come over? Don’t want you to be alone but we need to go.” She nods and let them both go.

Outside waits a car for them. Mycroft is on the phone, telling his people to analyze the video, the find the sending address and look for hidden clues or messages in the video itself.

In the end it wasn’t the prints that the video let behind in the net, it wasn’t background noises or anything else the room gave away, no it was Sherlock, sending a mute message while hurting himself to protect his friend. John notice the pattens of Sherlock´s hands; Morse code. Painfully to watch Sherlock´s right hand does the quick dots and his lift the long ones. How he let breaks between each letter and made no sign of doing something else then following Moriarty´s order.

Sherlock gave them his exact location by using GPS. Easy to track and precise by the location. It was just a matter of hours until they arrive. Moriarty got away with a flesh wound on his side but they could recover Sherlock´s injured body which contains a hurt mind that isn’t as broken as Moriarty thought. Because Sherlock had enough fight in him to send them a message, enough strange to survive the pain, enough will to outlive the cruelty of the world.

He wasn’t consciousness as they enter the cell and during the short periods of waking there was no sign of recognizing ether John or Mycroft. Sherlock drifted between waking and sleeping the whole way back to London to a hospital.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock wakes up and was in less pain. The pain was numb like someone had covered a radio with a blanked. The pain was still there but not as intense as usually. He was still tired so tired although he knew he must have slept for a long time, days. He will just stay in this quiet numbness until the pain will come back full force.

Suddenly he feels another hand on his own and he panics. That was only a few seconds he could rest, he needs a bit longer, he can´t do this anymore. It was a mistake to send the massage to John, it was wrong and egoistic but he wanted to be saved he wanted to be out and now he will have to pay the price for his mistake.

* * *

The moment John touched Sherlock´s hand he knew it was a mistake. His heart rate shoot to the sky, heavy breathing starts and the still hurt and injured man is send in full fight mode. To escape whoever was close to him.

John takes his hand back and keeps a meter safety distance before he starts to talk to Sherlock. “Sherlock you are safe. No one is gone to hurt you. You are back in London in a hospital. You are safe and back home. Open your eyes we got your message. Mycroft and I got you out. Sherlock, it´s me John.”

But apparently this was the wrong words to say. Sherlock didn’t stop he even increased his struggle. To prevent Sherlock to hurt himself even more he pressed the emergence button and two nurses and a doctor enter to sedate his friend again. Watching his friend falling limp back onto the bed was not a relieve. Sherlock, hadn’t recognized him or understand his words. Or he was too far gone to find his way back at once. Maybe it just need a bit more time for Sherlock to heal, to come back.

* * *

There was someone with him in this room. Someone who could hurt him. He wasn’t okay with being hurt anymore he just want to go away.

… That someone is talking. Probable telling him how he will hurt him or making fun of the ‘great detective’ being cuffed and beaten, alone in the cell.

He wants it to stop. To stop for once and all and if that mean never to see John again than he will have to live with that, or die in this case.

Stop, please let me die. The world answers by the all eating blackness that swallows him.

* * *

As he wakes again, this time fully awake he smells the typical smell of disinfection of a hospital. He hates that smell. Next thing is his hearing coming back, the sound of the heart monitor, the busy walking of people outside his room and the conversation of two familiar men.

“…give him more time, just a bit longer Mycroft, he will wake up when he is ready.” That voice, steady and strong but also soft was John´s. He would recognize him in any situation. (He can´t remember his last awaking)

“The doctors stopped the sedative hours ago, why isn’t he awake by now. Insulting the hospital stuff, teasing me with my diet or calling everyone stupid and demand to be released to go home? Strange it sounds like Mycroft but there was a worry and fear in his voice something that didn’t happen for a long time. The last time was as Sherlock fall of a tree as he was nine and Mycroft was supposed to watch him.

Slowly he tries to open his eyes, the light in the room was bright, too bright but after a few seconds he could manage to keep them open and look around the room. A normal hospital room, nothing special about it, by the door were two figure, he tries to focus and can finally see clearly his best friend and brother talking in heated whisper with each other. Not noticing that the subject of their conversation is already awake.

His throat was dry, he was thirsty like never before in his life, trying to swallow let him make a sound that got the attention of the other people in the room and both was at his bedside immediately. That let him flinch back. Away from touch or the warm feeling of another body heat.

Both, John and Mycroft notice this behavior and didn’t try to close the distance, not mention it. Sherlock looked … he looks scared. John couldn’t find a better word for it. As if he feared new pain would come.

“Sherlock?” He waits until Sherlock looks up not quiet meeting eyes but definite having his attention. “We got your message thanks to that we could find you and get you out.” Sherlock looked for a second into John´s eyes but looked back as fast as he could, fixing his hands in his lab. “Did you hear me Sherlock? You are free again.” Sherlock nod, once. At least he got that.

“How are you feeling.” Mycroft change the subject to get Sherlock back to a conversation where he had actually to talk.

“…fine.” Was all they got before the doctor came in and did his check up at Sherlock. John noted that the doctor was allowed to touch Sherlock, he wasn’t happy about it but he didn’t pull his arm away when his pulse got measured. After the doctor left without getting Sherlock to answer any of his question the three of them were alone again. Sherlock pulls his legs to his chest and hugs them to use less space, make him smaller and less area to get touched by someone.

“Have a drink, you probably thirsty.” John offers a cup with water and a straw. Getting a bit closer but stops as Sherlock starts to shiver. “Okay how about you take it yourself, look I will place it on the table next to you, easy to reach.” After putting the cup down John backs away out of his reach. First as he was out of reach Sherlock takes the cup into his hands and drinks greedy.

Placing the cup back on the table the tired look in his face speaks volumes of the exhaustion level. But Sherlock couldn’t relax not with them in the room. Looking up for a second between John and Mycroft he mumbled a weak. “Leave.” Before curling into himself under the blanked to shut out the world and drift off into sleep as they left him alone.

* * *

“…what had that …that monster done to him?” John was furious. Of course he had expected a few scratches on Sherlock´s psych but not this. He couldn’t look at them, he was even afraid the pain would come back while both of his protector were in the same room. He doesn’t want to be touched not that he had liked it before the kidnapping but John had expected that Sherlock would seek out for a bit friendly human contact. What worries him most is the not talking part. Yes he said two words but that was not enough for the ‘never shutting up’ detective who liked to impress people by the things he knew.

“You know what he did John. He used us to hurt him. We are now a trigger, anchor in his mind for pain. He saw pictures and video footage of us every time Moriarty hurt him and that over months.” Mycroft´s words were calm too calm for the hatred and anger in John. He turns around to shout at him or hurt him he hadn’t decided jet but as he looked at Mycroft he saw tears. Mycroft Holmes cried because his brother couldn’t look at him anymore without fearing or even feeling pain. He couldn’t held his brother´s hand after fearing that he was dead for half a year. The anger vanished defeated John looked back into the room through the window in the door. Sherlock lays under his blanked hidden for the world.

* * *

Sherlock did get better physically during his time in hospital. His wounds start to heal but that was the only improvement. He talked less, if that is even possible. He only gets them his attention if they ask directly a question, most times without getting an answer, maybe sometimes a nod or the shake of a head. He didn’t eat, thin like he is he needs the nutrition to get better. But most of it he gets via IV.  The worst was they couldn’t get close to him. A visit from Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade wasn’t helping ether. Both had the same effect on Sherlock like John and Mycroft. Except some strange people Sherlock never met before like his doctor or the nurses could get close.

“Sherlock?” John had to try it again. “You know nothing will happen to you when we are around you, right?” After a few seconds he get a nod from Sherlock. “But we hurt you every time we come close to you.” John sounds more than sad what let Sherlock look at him for the first time in days and what he sees let the tears finally fall. He had tried not to cry but it was too much. His head falls back onto his knees, hiding and crying.

John was on his feet and nearly closed the distance but he didn’t. He would hurt Sherlock further. There was nothing one of them could do to help him. Mycroft had send a therapist but Sherlock isn’t talking or even listening to him probably. Tomorrow he would be discharged and come back to Baker Street, how that should work is beyond John. He sighs and sits back down on his chair watching his friend cry and be a silent companion.

* * *

The day they went back home Mycroft sends a car, he wasn’t there and John keeps as much space as possible between them too help Sherlock to relax. The stairs up to their flat was a fight. No one could help him and Sherlock because he wouldn’t let them, needed two breaks for the seventeen stairs. He collapse on the sofa afterwards, exhausted.

John placed a glass of water, his medicine and a plate with toast on the table, reachable for Sherlock but not coming to closes. As he had come closer with the items Sherlock had pulled his legs up on the sofa holding them with his arms to protect himself. That earned him a sad look from John but Sherlock wouldn’t see it, the eye contact was minimal.

“Sherlock, please take your medicine and eat something.” John walked back to his chair and had to wait nearly an hour until Sherlock was ready to accept the food. They need a solution for that problem. Sherlock knew he was save in their present but his body felt pain and fear their were close.


	4. Chapter 4

Lestrade get out of the police car, holding a few cold cases in his arms, Sally behind him. They were on the way pack to the station but he wanted to use the time to bring the files over to Sherlock. He was back home nearly a week, out of the hospital and better, physically. John gave them all regular updates on Sherlock´s condition but there wasn’t much change by the important part. Letting his friends and family help him, get close, hug him or just talk and making eye contact. John was clueless what else to do and as Lestrade had suggested to bring over a few files to get a bit of normality into their life John had agreed to that.

Sally wasn’t too happy about coming along but she had seen the torture season by Moriarty on the scream too. She had seen what the fr..Sherlock had endure to keep the few people who were important to him save. One of them is her boss and she is glad that he didn’t die. So she was thankful for that. She hadn’t seen him in person since the day he got kidnapped seven months ago. She knew about his condition and she wonders if he wouldn’t better be with some stranger then see a reminder of the torture every day.

They enter the flat after John opened the door for them and lead them into the kitchen, offers tea. Sherlock was nowhere to see. “Where is he?” Lestrade ask quietly. John looked up with a sad look in his eyes.

“In there.” He pointed to the living room. Lestrade and Sally are looking around the corner. No Sherlock on his chair, no Sherlock on the sofa or the desk, Sally wanted to turn around and ask John again as she got a glim of a black mop of hair in the corner of the room. Half hidden behind the desk was Sherlock, a blanked wrapped around him not looking at them. She showed Lestrade were to look.

“What is he doing shouldn’t he rest or I don’t know ‘not sitting on the hart ground’. Lestrade sounds confused as he asks John, quiet enough not to be heard by Sherlock.

“He prefers to stay in the corner, I tried, believe me. But he is … he gets nearly panic attacks when I´m coming close. He couldn’t sit on the sofa with me walking through the room. So he hides you can try to bait him out there with the case files but I have no hope it will work.” John turns back to the kettle and prepares the tea. While Lestrade walks slowly over to Sherlock´s corner.

“Hey, sunshine.” He uses the old nickname he used as he helped him with the withdrawing from the drugs. It had always smoothed Sherlock to hear it. “Aren´t you bored by now? Sally and I brought you a few cold cases to spend some time with it. What do you think?” Lestrade was on his knees by now still keeping enough room between them while Sally was on the sofa. But both could see that Sherlock shied away with every centimeter Lestrade came closer. He pulled his legs closer to his chest and tries to squeeze his body more into the corner.

“Okay sunshine I will let them here on the table for you. I won´t come closer, promise.” He sighs, get up and walks back into the kitchen, accepting the tea John had made.

And then something unexpected happens. The moment Lestrade was out of sight as well as John Sherlock crawled out for the corner to the files while Sally was still on the sofa very close and in arms reach of the files and Sherlock. But it looks like he didn’t mind her; he takes one of the files and stays there on the ground by the table only a few centimeters between the two.

Sally holds her breathe; she didn’t move to not frighten Sherlock. He seems relaxed she would have called it. As John looked around the corner to look what happens Sherlock tense up as if he could feel John´s look. She shakes her head and somehow John understands, he backed away back into the kitchen. Sherlock´s shoulder sink down again.

After what feels like hours but wasn’t more than twenty minutes Sally had an idea. She takes out her notes and pulls out a single piece of paper, after a minute she was done with what she made and placed it on the table. Sherlock spotted it and takes the small folded paper figure into his hand.

“Sherlock?” He looked up at her, direct eye contact no fear, no pain. “Do you know how to make a paper crane?” First he looked confused, than surprised and at last curious. He shakes his head to answer with a ‘no’. “Would you like me to show you how to do it?” She gets energetic nods.

The next fifth-teen minutes was the flat filled with Sally´s words, explaining how to fold the paper, where it was important to kink it and followed by a story.

“This art is called Origami, the art of folding paper. You can make many different figures, animals, flowers, stars, little boxes or human shaped. My favorite is the crane. There is an old legend for this one. You will probably find is stupid but it says ‘when you make 1000 of these you get a wish fulfilled’.” By this Sherlock looked at her with interest. “Yes I know a bit stupid but I like the idea of it.” She smiled at him and he smiled back, a bit.

To her surprise he takes a pen from the table and writes the number ‘1’ down on the wing of his first made crane. “So you want to start doing it, to reach the thousand. It takes some time but I think you can do it. You can variant the size and color if you want. I have special colored paper for that. Would you like some of that? I could come over again tomorrow with it?” Sherlock nod at this but was focused on making his second one.

Sally stands up and walks back into the kitchen where to very amazed looking men are waiting for her. “How..” Lestrade and John starts at the same time and both didn’t know how to end that question.

Sally´s look get a bit dark. “That monster didn’t use me to hurt him, I´m not a reminder of the pain.”

“It´s not only that, you made him look at you and listen. You could interact with him and give him something to do. How did you know he would like to make those birds?” John had never thought Sherlock would be interested in something so ‘work’ unrelated, a useless skill for him and a more useless task to do it a thousand times.

She could see John´s thought they were written all over his face. “The reason is simple, it´s new, has nothing to do with his previous life and the story which I told him is true. I didn’t make it up. You get a wish when you fold a thousand cranes.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest. “Can I come back tomorrow and bring him the paper?” She asks John who nods. Lestrade and Sally left shot after.

* * *

In the beginning his cranes looked a bit deformed, clumsy in a way but with time they got as beautiful and perfect as Sally´s. She brought the paper sheets like she promised the next day and while Sherlock folded his cranes one after another she made other animals. He liked the elephant most but the dragon was the most complicated one she made. He had almost finished his fifth crane when she was done with the dragon.

During their sitting together, she told him about her day at work about her cases. Sherlock listens but never spoke a word, not to stop her bubbling or comment on the cases and solve them. He sits with Sally Donavan the woman he thought hated him together in a peaceful atmosphere. No reminder of Moriarty or the torture, the pain or the things he let him do. Sally didn’t call him freak; she said his name and didn’t use the word pet like Moriarty most of the time.

With every folded crane, with each new number on the wings Sherlock felt the wish he would like to have fulfilled grow inside him. It was easy to tell and the only logical thing to wish for. He wanted to look at his friend again without fear.

He wants to look at John without feeling the pain.

He wants to eat Mrs. Hudson´s food without feeling the poison work in his body.

He wants to go outside to work on cases with Lestrade again.

He wants to feel his brother´s hand on his head like he did it as he was a child. Giving him safety.

He doesn’t want to remember the days with Moriarty anymore and he would really like to be hugged just to feel alive and back and warm again. All these thoughts flew through his mind every second he folded the paper crane. ‘I want to come home and feel save again. I wish for the power to get over it and look at my friends without pain.’

Sherlock knows that John was there every day, every second of the day but most time not in sight to not hurt him. And this has to stop.

He wants to sit next to him on the sofa watching grap telly.

He wants to hug Mrs. Hudson and feel her motherly love.

He wants to come to the morgue to Molly and have a chat with her over a dead body.

He wants to go to a crime scene and meet Lestrade, listen to his information and telling him all his solution. He misses when the detective is frustrated of him for running into danger only because he worries.

He wants to visit his parents at chrismas with Mycroft and endure the normal family life, the dinner the sitting together the talking and sitting in front of the fire.

He wants the pain to go away. ‘Make it go away’.

Sherlock thinks with every crane he made. ‘Please give them back to me. They are all I have and all I need.’

* * *

John came into the living room, carefully. He hadn’t heard any noises made by Sherlock and he was worried. He needs to go inside slowly to not frighten his friend or send him straight to a panic attack. But as he enters the room Sherlock was sleeping. His head had sunken onto the small table by the sofa. His face looked peaceful for the first time since he was back. His crane collection was everywhere around him. They covered the table, the sofa and all around Sherlock.

He walks slowly over to his friend a blanked in his hand´s to prevent Sherlock from getting cold. As he lays it around his shoulder he wanted to back away as fast as possible but he saw a crane in Sherlock´s hand, the one with the number 1000 and during his staring at the paper bird Sherlock woke up and looked at John. First he didn’t notice his friend´s awaking until he sees the hand with the bird is moving. Looking at Sherlock let him freeze. He was close, too close for Sherlock but was backing away fast and close to panic himself the right way to handle the situation?

Apparently not, because Sherlock keeps looking at him and there was still a bit fear but a different kind of fear. They looked at each other and Sherlock lifts his body up from the table and holds his hand with crane number 1000 in front of John´s face.

“I got my wish.” Sherlock spoke. He spoke for the first time since the whispered word ‘leave’ in the hospital. John starts to cry and let all caution fall. He lowers himself and hugs Sherlock who didn’t protest or tries to get away. His Sherlock was back.


	5. Chapter 5

Sherlock walked down the familiar corridors of the station of New Scotland Yard, holding his head up, John very close next to him. They got a call from Lestrade half an hour ago for a consulting. A cold case could be connected to the body they had found yesterday. First it had looked like a suicide, jumper from a bridge but new evidence point in a different way.

* * *

Sherlock first spoken word was a week ago. He and John had used the time to relax in each other’s present. They got visitors, of course after John told everyone that Sherlock was ‘back’ in a way.

Mrs. Hudson was the first one who literally run up the steps after she had heard the crying upstairs and did the same as John hugging her boy until John had to tell her that Sherlock had broken rips a few weeks back and that she could hug him later again. The old landlady was crying too. Nothing too surprising but she calmed down a bit and offers Sherlock a few cookies. Who accepted them gratefully.

Mycroft, the ever watching Big Brother came only an hour later without being informed but no one expected anything less. They didn’t talk much, it also didn’t end in one of their shouting matches but as Mycroft left again he pets Sherlock´s head for a few seconds. To John´s surprise Sherlock didn’t mind it looks like he liked it. He would never say a word about this action of brotherly love.

Lestrade came after his shift and the three man enjoyed their evening together in the living room. John and Lestrade with a beer in their hands and Sherlock playing the violin. His fingers were a bit stiff but with enough precise it would only take a few weeks to get back to his old standards.

Molly came the next morning with a fresh human kidney, apparently Sherlock had asked for it. John had to smile as the body part disappeared in the fridge for an experiment later. They had tea together before Molly had to go back to work.

* * *

It was his first case and John was a bit nervous that it could be too much not that he had the ability to stop Sherlock when he wanted to do something. That he walked a bit closer than normally by his friends side was only because he was worried and yes really frighten someone could take him away again.

Sherlock was ready to go out again, into the world, live his life, solve crimes and so on. To John´s surprise Sherlock didn’t go directly to Lestrade´s office, no he headed to Sally´s desk. She hadn’t visited him until now. Not since the evening before Sherlock finished the crane folding thing for his wish. John doesn’t believe in things like that but somehow Sherlock was back, his Sherlock and that is all that matters. Sally turns around as she heard them come closer.

“Hello Sherlock, John. Lestrade is in his office if you are looking for him.” She tells them and begins to turn back again, as if it was none of her business that they were here.

Sherlock pulls something out of his pocket and puts it down on her desk. It was a little green crane with the black number of 1001 on its wing. “I got it all back, thank you.” Sherlock looked down on her, while she up to him from her position on the chair. He smiled at her and she started to smile too. They were both not enemy’s before, no friends ether but now they had something, something deep and powerful. She had saved him from his own mind, his brilliant mind that was his strongest weapon and he found his way back thanks to her.

“Don’t think I will treat you different on a crime scene.” It should probably sound threaten but with her smile and the general happiness about his coming back it was clear to everyone that something has changed, to something better.

Sherlock has a new friend.


End file.
